Thursday, May 13, 2010

Disdain

There were things she could tolerate when she first met him. She even found them endearing. Such as the absent-minded way he often left the keys hanging from the lock when he let himself into the apartment. Love is blind, after all. But, now she was getting tired of constantly having to shepherd him through life, safeguarding his every step, because his behavior could prove fatal. His personal grooming was atrocious, too. How dare he come to bed with such disgusting feet; toe-nails so long they gouged her calves when he snuggled up, so innocent of her disdain?

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